


The Worst Luck

by AU_Queen



Category: RWBY
Genre: Angst, Canon Divergent, Coda, Episode: S06E04 So That’s How It Is, First Meeting, M/M, Memories, Pre-Slash, before ozpin became headmaster of beacon, light spoilers, qrow cursing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-26
Updated: 2018-11-26
Packaged: 2019-08-29 22:32:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16752694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AU_Queen/pseuds/AU_Queen
Summary: “No one wanted me. I was cursed. I gave my life to you, because you gave me a place in this world. I thought I was finally doing some good. Meeting you was the worst luck of my life.”“Maybe you’re right.”





	The Worst Luck

**Author's Note:**

> Recommended song (that I listened to while writing this): This Is Gonna Hurt by Sixx Am (acoustic version).

_ “No one wanted me. I was cursed. I gave my life to you, because you gave me a place in this world. I thought I was finally doing some good. Meeting you was the worst luck of my life.”  _

_ “Maybe you’re right.” _

 

____

He was young and stupid, just as most nineteen year olds are. His team had left Beacon as huntsmen together, yet after graduation he had separated from them. “I wanna see the world, and you’d only slow me down.” That’s what he told them before they left, joking smirk plastered firmly on his face. If any of them knew he was lying, they didn’t say anything. Even if they had, it wouldn’t have stopped him. They’d been subject to his semblance long enough. It was time to leave 

That was a year ago. Now he was cold and alone. Killing small amounts of grimm to earn what food money he could, and sleeping hidden away where he wouldn’t be found. No one wanted him. Even those he saved soon sneered and told him to get lost. He had gotten used to that all through growing up. With a semblance like misfortune, it was a necessity. Still it hurt. To be yelled at. Have things thrown at you. Run out of town with pitchforks and fire.

To be cursed.

It was the middle of winter when it happened. Qrow was in the woods, cape wrapped tightly around his torso as the snow fluttered down around him. A thick blanket of the white stuff already littered the ground, crunching with his every step. His teeth chattered. And he was pretty sure the snot on his nose had crystallized. Negative thoughts swirled through his mind. How much he hated this curse of a semblance for making his life hell. The impassive looks and curling sneers he got when people realised he was bad luck, as bad coincidence after bad coincidence piled up and showed the truth. A gust of wind had him pull his cape closer as a shiver wracked down his spine. It was hard not to be negative when he was this cold and tired.

More snow crunched than steps he took. Something had started to follow him, and he didn't need three guesses to know it was a creature of grimm. His hand slowly moved from his cape to his side without even a thought. With slow movements he turned to see what was behind him, endeavoring to keep his mind as carefully blank as he could. It wasn't something he'd ever been good at, and current circumstances weren't helping.

Before him stood five ursa majors, standing tall and proud on hind legs. Even with all the hunting he had under his belt, he was still only nineteen. Most of the big hunts were with his team. And before that, his tribe. So yeah, he wasn't ashamed to say he felt his heart skip a few beats as the lead one sniffed the air before letting out a roar that shook some of the closest trees.

He gripped the handle for his weapon as tight as he could with numb fingers. For a second his thumb fumbled with the button to get it to transform into his scythe and he looked down. White knuckles held the handle, and blue fingertips rested against the freezing metal surface. It took a minute, but he finally pressed the button down. As the weapon whirled and expanded, he took a breath to steady himself. The air felt crisp in his lungs, and if he hadn't already been out among the trees and snow for so long it might've felt good. Instead it felt like the very air was attempting to turn him to ice from the inside out. “Alright guys, gotta make this quick. Any longer and I may get frostbite.”

The other four ursi roared a response that would have been captured and scattered with the wind had they been smaller creatures. Instead it echoed throughout the forest and rattled the trees. Qrow took his stance.

The ursi rushed as one, but he didn't move. Not until they were in position. Another step and the one to his right was close enough for him. He leapt onto the creature’s back and used its momentum to propel himself forward, off of it and toward the next ursa in the row. His scythe’s blade went around its neck before it cut cleanly through. Momentum continued to carry him high into the air where he flipped toward another ursa and fired off four shots in quick succession, right into its skull. Ash from both ursi followed him up into the air before the wind dispersed it around the forest.

He braced himself for impact with the hard snow. But before he could hit the ground, the ursa he'd first jumped from swung a giant, clawed paw down at him. It ripped his scythe right from his hands. The force of the blow sent both him and the weapon in two different directions. Air got forced from his lungs as he hit the snow harder than he'd expected. If it weren't for the roar of pain that followed the departure of his weapon, he would've been annoyed. As it was, the ursa who'd roared had ash seeping from a wound in his paw. Qrow smirked with a bit of smug pride for his weapon. He always did make sure it was sharp, a habit he'd acquired from Summer. Silently he thanked his old leader. Out loud he mocked the ursa, despite its inability to understand him. “Wasn't too smart of a move, was it hot shot?”

It only growled in response before it moved closer with the other two remaining ursi. He started to back up as two of the creatures padded closer and closer to him, their heavy paws making deep imprints in the snow.

Well, shit.

It was just his luck, too. His scythe was too far away for him to reach unless he ran through the ursa majors, which was a complete suicide mission. Then there was the tree he felt collide with his back. Yep. The semblance was a curse, even for him.

His eyes are riveted toward the ursi that inch toward him- until something has him look back. The third ursa that had stayed behind is on the ground. There was no sound, no cry from the beast. Just the crunch of its giant body as it hit the snow along with a puff of white followed by black ash being carried off by the wind. When he looked above it, he barely kept his surprise from being vocalized. A kid stood in the middle of the swirling ash, white hair moving with the wind. He held a silver staff by his side. 

Calmly, the boy walked to where Qrow’s weapon stood out from the snow and picked it up. After a cursory glance of it, he condensed it to a sword and threw it to Qrow. He caught it with ease and slashed at the ursa closest to him. It didn't connect, but it got the creature to back up some. Enough for him to comfortably move away from the tree. He sidestepped then rolled away from them. Which was good, because the injured one, seemingly recovered from the shock of another of its kind suddenly dying, swiped its paw forward and felled the tree they had had him backed up against. Soon after the snow around the tree settled back down another sound rang through the air. Metal hitting bone.

The quip Qrow had on his tongue died as he turned to see the kid in combat with the other ursa major. Snow fell around him from the sky, but the snow at his feet never seemed to puff up except from the creature. The staff sliced cleanly through the air and hit its mark each time. Never once did the ursa touch him. It took him a bit to shake himself out of whatever trance the kid had him under, but he did it. Having to dodge a second blow from his ursa helped.

Before he knew it, both ursi were dead, their ash whispering away in the wind. He smiled and wiped his forehead. It was done. When he turned to thank the kid- he may leave the kid immediately after, but it would still be good to thank him- but he wasn't there. Qrow looked around in surprise. There was nothing but trees, snow, and soft floating ash around him. Like the wind had swept him away, the kid was gone.

There weren't even any footprints in the snow from him. It was like he'd never been there. For a minute, Qrow thought that maybe he really hadn't been there. That somehow he imagined him. 

Something glinted in the snow a few steps away. A small shiny, black bit of metal stuck out of the snow. If not for the sun reflecting off it, Qrow never would have noticed it. He reached down and retrieved it from the snowy prison. He turned it around and around in numb hands. The object was a pin in the shape of a small flower. There was what looked like a bit of green dust crystal set in the middle of it. It was well made and had to be worth a good amount of lin. With a shrug he shoved it into his pocket. Years of living with the tribe had taught him to steal what he could when he could. Sure he wasn't always proud of it, but the raising definitely came in handy. Especially these days, alone as he was. The wind whistled through the trees as he shook thoughts and memories from his head.

Warm breath puffed out of him to turn into fog as he walked through the woods. The adrenaline from the fight still hummed under his skin. He could feel every beat of his heart as it pounded in his chest. It would be a while before it stopped. All of it was the lingering effects of having to fight for his life. Something that annoyed him to no end with how often he found himself doing it these days.

But at least he was warmer now.

 

\----

A gray older man watched him suspiciously as he sniffed at the firm bread in his hands. It was still good, and he smiled slightly to himself as he reached into his pocket for money to purchase the small loaf. He had just come from a job, just some roof painting, and they had payed him surprisingly well. Before they laughed him off the farm when he fell off the roof and directly into the bucket of red paint. Which was likely the reason the man squinted at him so curiously. But that was okay. Somehow he hadn't broke anything, and he might even have enough lin left over to grab an apple. This would be the best he's eaten in over a month.

As he dug into his pocket, something metal and sharp brushed his hand. The pin he had found in the snow after the kid disappeared. He honestly wasn't sure why he hadn't sold it yet. It was easiest to say it was because he just kept forgetting to and push it from his mind. So that's exactly what he did as his fingers closed around the lin. What ever the reason, whether for what he told himself or for a souvenir of the mystery kid, it didn't matter.

He handed the old man his lin and smiled when the man thanked him for his business. As he walked away he took a bite to find the bread was sweeter than he thought it'd be. It was certainly a nice surprise. With a renewed skip to his step, Qrow hummed to himself as he made his way to the apple cart. The bread was sweet enough on its own that he didn't really  _ need _ an apple, but it would still be nice to have for later.

Before he reached the stand, three men blocked his path. He recognized them as some of the people he had painted the roof for. Inwardly he groaned. The woman were happy with him, they're likely the only reason he even got payed. For some reason the men seemed to hate him. As if to prove that the women really were the reason he was payed, the man on the right stepped out from behind the man in front and knocked the bread from his hands. It was petty and childish, and Qrow responded just as one would to something like that. With a roll of the eyes and a heavy sigh. When he bent to pick his bread up from the ground, the man in front, ring leader and husband to the woman who had hired him, pushed him down. Qrow grumbled before he picked himself off the dirt road and brushed off his pants. Normally he’d go after them with flying fists, his patience not built for this kind of thing. But he liked their wives, so instead he tried to ignore them. They weren’t very helpful.

“C’mon,  _ curse _ ” the man spat the word with so much hate that it turned the normal word into an insult. It was something Qrow’d heard a number of times by then. “Aren’t ya gonna fight back like a real man? Or are ya too weak for that?” Qrow couldn’t keep himself from scoffing at the ‘too weak’ insult. The only reason his wife had even hired him was because the man was too lazy to paint his own damn roof. Where Qrow grew up, that was seen as a major weakness.

“I'm not gonna fight you.”

“Why not?” The man sneered, “You a coward as well?”

Qrow rolled his eyes. The jeering might work on a lesser man, but Qrow wouldn’t let it get to him. Not now, in the middle of a market full of people. Instead he went to walk around the three. But the man stopped him with a hand on his chest.

“You’re not walking away from this, bird boy,” the man said, and the goons behind him laughed. After a second he removed his hand from his chest. Then he squinted his eyes as if in thought. “You know, Qrow was an appropriate name for you. Maybe your mom knew you’d be bad luck from the moment she gave birth to your sorry ass.”

Suddenly, it got a lot harder to not just punch the guy. Apparently the guy could sense it, because he smirked.

“C’mon, I know you want to. Punch me.” The man took a step back with a smile, and held his arms out to the side. This guy really wanted to be punched. Who was Qrow to deny him?

Qrow took a breath and rolled his shoulders. The guy smirked. Before Qrow could draw back and let this guy’s smug face meet his fist, someone appeared between them. Everyone paused.

It was a kid, a bit shorter than himself. Definitely a head shorter than the three men. He had white hair, and Qrow’s mind went back to snow and frozen fingers. His focus shifted for a second to his pocket where the pin sat. This wasn't something Qrow would've expected to happen. Yes, he had sorta expected someone to stop it. But the very kid who saved him from those ursa major those months back? It was certainly an odd coincidence.

Tension continued to rise between the men as Qrow focused back on the people before him, though it was now focused on the kid. The man’s teeth were now bared, and he looked like he wanted to hit him. His face definitely told tales of fights and blood, and the two behind him echoed the look. Still no one moved or spoke. Hell, if their chests said anything, they barely even  _ breathed _ . It was incredible to witness. How much power this kid seemed to have over them.

“Move.” The man finally grit out between his teeth.

The kid just stood there, and from the angle of his head Qrow knew he was simply stating up at him. Somehow it made the man’s glare flow brighter. Maybe that was his semblance. To glare people into oblivion. But no, most normal people didn't even know what their semblances were. If they even had one. Still the kid didn’t move. Just, stood there. Keeping them separated. Qrow blinked. Separated from him.  _ Is the kid helping me,  _ again _? _

Finally the man seemed to get sick of their staring contest, and went to punch the kid. His fist flew through the air perfectly. It was aimed right for the kid’s face, and it would hit without question. But then the kid finally moved. His hand shot out and caught the man’s fist, inches from his own face. The man appeared as confused as Qrow felt, until his face screwed up in what could only be pain. Qrow looked down to where the kid still held the man’s fist. When he saw the grip, he couldn’t help but feel slightly bad. Not that bad, though. He had asked for it. Still, that grip looked brutal. The kid’s knuckles were white, and the skin of the man’s hand was a darkening pink. A whimper came from the man, and Qrow tore his eyes from the growing contrast to his face. Small tears sat at the corners of his eyes.

“Do you give?” the kid may have asked, but Qrow couldn’t be sure. Instead, the words came from his sister. One of the other students at Beacon had been busy beating him up, until she had intervened. She’d caught the punch easily, twisted and squeezed till the kid was practically crying in pain. 

Qrow placed his hand on his sister’s-or was it the kid’s?-shoulder. “He’s had enough, let him go.”

“No. Not until he apologizes.” The words were angrily ground out, and he could practically see his sister’s red eyes gleaming. Though, he could never be sure if it was in anger or joy. And that had always worried him. “I’m the only one allowed to pick on my baby brother.”

“Please.” He asked, voice soft. It had taken them too much effort to get here. They didn’t need to get in trouble, and sent back to the tribe. A shiver ran down his spine at the thought of the punishment that would come from failing.

“Fine.” She released the boy’s hand, and he clutched it to his chest as he ran away. Hopefully to the nurse. Then she turned to him with a frown, eyes hard. A finger poked into his chest. “These people are making you soft.” The words were low and cold. Then she walked away.

Later, the headmaster had told them she’d broken his hand. And she looked damn proud of herself once he’d left.

“Okay.” This voice said instead, and let the man go without argument. The man looked at them angrily, and spit out something about neither of them coming here again before the three of them left. But Qrow wasn’t paying attention to them. Instead, he watched the kid in front of him. What just happened clashed violently with his memory. Just as the white and red skin had clashed just moments earlier. Except this time, it was red and green as the man turned around. It was hard and soft as the man looked at him. And it was cold and warm when he asked him if he was okay.

“Yeah.” Qrow told him a bit absently, mind still reeling. With a nod, the kid turned to leave. “Wait,” Qrow called out and the kid paused. “You’re the kid who helped me kill those ursa majors. I never did thank you for that. Oh, and,” Qrow dug around in his pocket until he produced the pin,”You dropped this in the snow.”

He held it out and after a moment the kid took it. Their fingers brushed just for a few seconds, but it was long enough for Qrow to feel the warmth he emitted. And then the kid was gone. With a huff, Qrow continued his walk to get an apple. When he reached into his pocket to grab the lin so he could pay, his hand brushed against metal. Confused, Qrow pulled out the pin he’d given back to the kid. He laughed as he turned it over in his hand before he clipped it onto his cape.

 

\----

Qrow ran through the forest, a death stalker on his heels. He should’ve known not to grab at that weird light in the cave. Damn his curiosity and damn his stupid semblance. Both were equally to blame, he was sure of it. And if they weren’t. Well, it didn’t matter. He’d likely be dead in a few minutes, anyhow.  _ Wonder if Raven’ll miss me? _

The death stalker’s stinger impaled the ground next to him, knocking him off his feet. He rolled down a hill before he stood back up to see the stinger stuck a few inches into the mud. After a second to catch his breath, he took off running again. Mud would hopefully hold the grimm for a few seconds. It wasn’t much of a headstart, but he didn’t want to lose it. Not that it seemed to matter with this creature. It easily caught back up with him.

It struck with its stinger again. For a second time it missed. Instead, it hit a tree with a solid  _ thunk _ . Qrow smiled. His semblance had affected the death stalker. There was no way it would get it’s stinger out of the tree. Sure, it could still hurt him with its pinchers, but the long range threat was now out of the way. That made it significantly easier to deal with.

Then the death stalker ripped the tree from the ground, roots still clumped with dirt. A dark spot began to form around where the stinger was inside, and an opening formed. One that looked like the wood had rotted from the inside out. Qrow gulped. It drew its tail back before flinging it forward once again. The tree flew off and Qrow just barely jumped out of the way before it made impact with the ground in a cloud of dirt and ruffle of leaves.

This wasn’t good.

He took off a third time. As he ran, he pulled his weapon back out. It wasn’t the best, but his only current plan was to survive. So he began to run backwards as he shot at the thing. Just like last time, the bullets only bounced off its hard, scarred armour. A breath of annoyance somehow pushed itself from his lungs. Why did this type of grimm have to be so difficult to kill? Not for the first time, Qrow cursed his bad luck. If it hadn’t of started to pour he never would’ve even entered that damned cave. Now, instead of calmly making his way through a dry forest, he was drenched, with mud all down his body, and running for his life.

Curse this dumbass semblance.

The mud slipped him up, and he fell forward. Mud entered his mouth and eyes, causing him to sputter and cough. He might've hurt his shoulder, but with all the adrenaline pumping through his blood he couldn't be sure. The stinger came toward him in slow motion as he fumbled to get up. This time it would work. This would be the end. It was here. Not with his tribe, or at Beacon, but in some random forest. No one would know (no one would care) as his body sank into the earth and became one with the plants. Still he refused to close his eyes. If he was to die, he'd face it till the end. As was the Branwen Tribe’s way.

A flash of sudden movement in front of him, and the stinger stopped. White hair stood before him. It had collided with a cane. “We should really stop meeting like this.” The kid said with a smirk in his voice, and Qrow barked out a laugh. He could've kissed him in that moment, but he chalked it up to the thrill of almost dying.

“I don't know, I think I'm getting used to you saving my ass,” Qrow snarked, and the kid glanced back with a raised eyebrow. There was a smile there, but he looked forward again after a quick second. Then he used the cane to push the stinger away. “You know, you're an incredible hunter.” He commented as he stood back up. The kid didn't respond. Instead he appeared to size the grimm up. After a moment, he nodded and turned back to Qrow. There was a determination Qrow hadn’t yet seen in those green eyes, and something inside Qrow responded in kind. His feet moved, stance widening and lowering. His grip tightened on his weapon. It would not be here. Qrow Branwen would not die here.

“Do you think you can distract it?” the kid asked, and Qrow smiled.

“My sister used to say that was my only talent.” That had the kid look back, a small frown on his face. Qrow winked at him, and it was gone. Then Qrow ran for the tree line. “Come get me, you mutant scorpion!” The death stalker turned toward him and followed quickly. For a split second Qrow could feel himself falter, but no. It wasn’t how he was raised. He was raised in the heat of battle, never granted a moment of falter. He steeled himself and zagged to the left. The creature was big, huge. It wouldn’t be able to copy the sharp turn. “Eh, kid! You gotta plan?” He yelled out as he took another turn.

“The only thing that can pierce the shell is its stinger. You have to cut it off.” Was the kid’s answer.

“Now?”

“Closer to the tree line.”

Qrow nodded and turned that way. When he felt he got close enough, he shot a round from his scythe to propel himself at the closest tree. His feet landed on the bark, and he jumped off with a flip. When he was able, he unfolded his scythe fully and drove the blade through the point that connected tail to stinger. Once he landed back on the ground, he turned to see the stinger still in the air. “What?” He mumbled, surprised. It wasn’t just hanging there, he could see that. Instead it was as if all time around the stinger had slowed. And then suddenly, it sped up too fast for Qrow to track it. In the space of a blink, the stinger had impaled itself fully into the death stalker’s back and the death stalker had gone still.

The kid jumped off a nearby tree, and his eyes seemed to glow. A shift in the air, and the glow was gone.

“What the  _ fuck _ was that?!” Qrow exclaimed. The kid chuckled.

“That would be my semblance. Time manipulation.” The kid answered, and his cane folded itself so he could snap it to his belt. Then he turned to leave.

“Wait!” Qrow called out quickly, just as he had done that day in the market. The kid turned back to him, eyebrow raised in curiosity. “How about we head to the nearest bar and grab a drink?” He asked. Nervously, he pushed the button on his own weapon to fold it up so he could also snap it to his belt. There was a long silence, where Qrow shifted between his feet. The adrenaline still coursed through his body, but it had already started to fade. He could feel his blood pump painfully through his body, and his shoulder pounded where he had landed on it.

“Okay.” The kid finally answered.

Qrow couldn’t help his excited smile, though he was able to tamp down on his sudden, strange desire to skip out of the forest.

 

It took awhile, but after maybe a half hour of walking, Qrow found himself at a bar counter with the kid that had saved his life twice now. Thankfully, half way through the trip his aura had healed his shoulder. But it would still smart for a few days, and if he moved it a certain way the muscle stung.

“A beer for my friend, and a hot chocolate for myself,” the kid told the woman behind the counter when she came over to them.

“No, you don’t have to do that. I’ll just get myself a water.” Qrow protested. The kid didn’t need to waste his money on him. But, the kid simply held a hand up with a smile.

“Nonsense.” Despite himself, Qrow found himself copying that smile.

When the woman brought back the drinks, Qrow was happy to get the first taste of alcohol he’d had in what felt like years. The kid took a sip from his hot chocolate and Qrow quirked an eyebrow at him. But this time there was no response. They found themselves in a stretch of quiet similar to the one from their trek out of the forest. It should’ve unnerved Qrow, the quiet. Really, with anyone else it would’ve. He had no clue what it was with this kid that made it bearable. Heck, he didn’t even know who this kid was. Yet he found himself in a bar and enjoying his company. It was strange. Which reminded him-

“So what's your name?” The kid didn’t respond, but Qrow was getting used to that. “‘Cause if you're gonna keep showin’ up rescuing me like a damsel, I should at least know the name of my knight.”

“Ozpin.” The kid-Ozpin-answered, though he didn’t look up from the counter.

“Well, Ozpin, what were you doing in that forest anyhow?” Qrow leaned back dangerously on the stool.

“I followed you.” This time Ozpin met his eyes, the green unwavering.

“Followed me? How?” Qrow frowned.

“I used that.” He gestured to the pin on Qrow’s cape. The one that had originally been his. Qrow raised an eyebrow. “I’m able to track the pin.”

“Really?” Qrow asked disbelievingly.

“Yes.” He answered so truthfully, that Qrow shrugged and found himself believing him.

“So how'd you find me the first time?” Qrow leaned forward onto the bar again. He took a sip from the beer bottle before he cradled it in his hands.

“Dumb luck.” Qrow almost scoffed. He'd never had the word ‘luck’ used with him in the context without the word ‘bad’ proceeding it. Still, the kid barely knew him. There was still time.

Another stretch of silence followed as they both finished their drinks. When Qrow was done his beer, he got up and turned to leave. Nothing more had been said between the two, and he assumed any further conversation had passed.

“Qrow.” Apparently he’d assumed wrong. Ozpin had grabbed his wrist, but let go as soon as Qrow turned back to him. “I’m forming a group of warriors, and I’d like for you to join me.” This time Qrow did scoff.

“Why? You hardly know me.”

“While that’s true, from what I’ve seen of you I’d be honoured to have you be the first to join me.” Qrow raised a skeptic eyebrow, and Ozpin elaborated. “You’re a good fighter- I’ve seen that twice now. You’re also patient. I watched as that man tried to pick a fight with you. I know plenty of men who wouldn’t of even hesitated to fight. Yet you did until he directly asked to be hit. And when I intervened, you stopped me from going too far. I think you’d be perfect.” Ozpin smiled at him.

“And if you regret it?” Qrow questioned, but didn’t move to deny his request or leave. Instead he sat back down. Ozpin followed his movement with his eyes, soft smile never leaving his lips.

“I’m sure I won’t.”   
“I’m cursed. My semblance-” He stopped when a warm hand covered his own. When he looked up, he immediately found Ozpin’s eyes. The colour held him there, and he wasn’t able to look away until Ozpin blinked.  
“We’re all cursed, Qrow. What matters is that we don’t let it stop us.” This wasn’t the first time he’d heard those words. It was the very thing Raven had told him when he’d first discovered his semblance. And she’d had to repeat those words often through the years. But it was the first time he found himself believing it. Slowly, he nodded.

“Okay, okay.” He chuckled, a small humourless laugh, “I’m probably insane, but okay. I’ll follow you.” And for some reason, something in him knew that it would’ve always ended in this. From the moment he’d seen that determined look flash in Ozpin’s eyes.

He’d followed Ozpin everyday after that. Through battles, through sorrows. Through getting his team back again, only to lose everyone of them but Tai. And knowing every moment that everytime something bad happened, every time he was showed a way out, he’d still follow Ozpin. Till the end he’d follow the one person who truly made him feel wanted. Who made him feel that, against all odds, he had made something good of himself and his semblance.   
He followed Ozpin after that.

Truly, he had never been so lucky.

 

And he should have known then that it was too good to be true.

 

\---

He walked away from Oscar as the girls demanded for Ozpin to come back. Honestly, he wasn’t sure if he wanted the man to return or not. Either way it would still hurt to look at Oscar. The memories were too fresh. Memories that were now tainted with harsh new revelations. So he didn't look. Instead he clenched his eyes shut. Then, with a deep breath through his nose, he forced them into a box, right next to all the other crap he didn’t ever want to think about again. Hopefully they would stay there. His hand absently found the metal pin he kept in his pocket. On instinct he fished it out, and turned it round and round in his hands. _ I wish you'd never found me that day with the ursi.  _ The thought passed through his mind like the winter wind.

Then he tossed it down into the snow.


End file.
